


Please Do Remember The Light At Home

by Tournesol



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Bathtubs, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, the thirst for more Winters in the bath is strong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tournesol/pseuds/Tournesol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nixon's bad day ends better than it started when he comes home to Winters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Do Remember The Light At Home

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the fictional characters from the show, no disrespect meant to the real guys.

It’s been a long day. Hell, it’s been a long week. A long month even. But somehow the straw that broke the camel’s back was Nixon having another quite-not-an-argument with his father. The old man is set in his ways and is reluctant to listen to the propositions Nixon has to offer about the company and Nixon left the room feeling like an errant child, like a disappointment. 

On top of that he feels a headache starting at the edge of his consciousness. Great. He just wants the day to be over already, wants to put it behind him and start anew. When he gets home he calls for Winters, feeling slightly relieved already, being so near. 

“In the bathroom!” replies Winters. 

Nixon’s feet take him there and when he opens the door he’s graced with the sight of Winters in the bath, eyes closed, arms resting on the sides of the bathtub. The water is rippling in gentle waves, giving a distorted view of Winters’ spectacular body, disturbing the clean lines of his well defined muscles. After all this time it still takes Nixon’s breath away to be presented with such a dreamlike vision, Michaelangelo’s David put to water. Winters’ body would have all the appearance of fine marble if not for the freckles scattered on his pasty skin, which the water blur like constellations in a winter sky. 

Hearing him approaching, Winters looks to him and gives him a soft smile, the one he does just for him and Nixon’s breath catches in his throat. 

Without much thought, Nixon makes his way towards the bathtub and gets into it, clothes and shoes and all, sitting facing Winters where he pulls his legs up to make room for him.  
For a while they just look at each other, Winters with a raised eyebrow but other than that nonplussed by Nixon’s behavior.

“That bad uh?” he asks.

“Yeah.” replies Nixon. 

A comfortable silence settles between the two of them, Winters letting Nixon all the time he needs to talk about what’s troubling him should he need to. 

“Dick?” says Nixon after some time.

“Yes Lew?”

“This bath is fucking cold.”

Winters laughs at that because what is striking Nixon is the temperature of the water as opposed to standing fully clothed in it. 

“I always take an ice cold bath after I exercise,” he replies. 

Nixon raises an eyebrow but is not that surprised, knowing full well Winters’ strict regimen of calisthenics.

“C’mere,” adds Winters, gesturing for Nixon to come closer, making room for him between his legs. 

Nixon obliges, turning to sit back against Winters’ chest, sighing in relief when Winters wraps his arms around him, holding him close, thumbs brushing soothing circles on his biceps. 

“Wanna talk about it?” asks Winters, not pressing but giving Nixon an opening should he need one. He presses a gentle kiss against Nixon’s neck.

“Not really no. It was just, a long day.”

“Mhm.” replies Winters, still pressing kisses against Nixon’s skin every once in a while, holding Nixon close to him in silent support. 

When Nixon starts shivering, Winters gets them out of the bath. He strips Nixon of his sodden clothes, and they’re not exchanging a single word but looking at each other in silent conversation. They’ve done their fair share of that but today it’s because Winters is caring for Nixon, stripping him of his clothes as if he was shedding the bad day along with it.  
Winters is liberal with his caresses but they’re warm instead of heated today and it’s just what Nixon needs right now, to feel that connection. It’s Winters trailing hands up his arms and shoulders, resting a gentle hand on his neck, pressing a chaste kiss on his forehead.

Winters guides them under the hot spray of the shower and they stay there unmoving, Winters holding Nixon close. Nixon rests his head on Winters’ shoulder, his hands splayed against Winters’ chest and he is held in the secure embrace of Winters’ arms.  
They stay like that, holding onto each other until the hot water restores heat into their cold limbs, until comfort seeps into them from the contact and the weariness from the day gets down the drain with the water.

After some time Nixon rests his forehead against Winters’ in a silent thank you. They get out of the shower with their fingers interlocked and Winters sets to towel dry Nixon, kneeling to start at his feet and working his way up, keeping the touch efficient but tinted with reverence, the softness and care overwhelming to Nixon, who preens under it.  
When he gets to Nixon’s shoulders he wraps the towel around them and guides them towards the bedroom where they lie facing each other on the bed. 

There are a million conversations to be had without words and this is one of them. They keep looking at each other, content to run their hands over each other’s skin, marvelling at the warmth, the shared heat that revives the body as well as the soul. It’s a different sort of heat that runs beneath their skin because there’s more than just one way to lose yourself into another’s body. It’s unbearably intimate to expose yourself so completely, open and vulnerable, more intimate than sex, and they’ve done their fair share of that too. But tonight they’re content to just lie in a comfortable embrace, skin on skin, and relish on the contact for the comfort it brings as opposed to the heated urgency. 

Winters is looking at Nixon and brushing gentle fingers on Nix’s hair on his forehead, a barely there touch that acts like a balm on Nixon’s heart. He doesn’t feel so inadequate anymore and for the first time today he feels at peace with the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song Dark Place by Jessie Baylin  
> as always thanks my gals jspringsteen and greetingsprogramms


End file.
